Letting Go Gracefully {and sometimes not so gracefully}

I am cold, hurting, sad and despondent and he says, “get dressed and come outside with me–it’s such a nice, warm day”. Something inside me jumps at the thought of being in the sunshine after so much grey cloudiness and rain in my life. It has been a long time coming–this spring rejuvenating joyousness!

As I throw my clothes on, not caring if my hair hasn’t been washed {i’m going to the sunlight}, girls all dressed and I step outside, this change is hard. Hard because my emotions don’t feel it. But I’ve been here before, and I know that the emotions are not always in sync with what my heart and soul {God’s Spirit speaking?} are saying is vital, purposeful, helpful, and joy-creating. Human emotions don’t so easily give way to the joy-creating and peace-creating moments. My emotions stand hard and stubborn as brick, and they are not easily destroyed and replaced with God’s love, gentleness, patience, and hope.

Hope is a funny thing….it’s like stepping outside to the sun’s blinding when I’ve been hibernating inside my comfort place, my isolation for too long. It all feels raw, open, it hurts and blinds and in the same breath feels like warmth to the soul, the soul slowly waking, and the Son telling me time to get up.

He turns on the radio, and says, “You ARE ready–wow! Let’s go!” And my heart is so easily led because it craves it and needs it. My heart craves, this heart that is only for him. And it is this that God is trying to show me–yes, my heart craves, and it is truly HIM that i crave, that my heart yearns to follow.

In the sunlight, always the blinding light, I am so thankful that He gives spring….and I see it. I see that the leaves, the brown, black and grey, the dead things must come for life to come forth. All of the wretched things, the things I hate the most, the things that seem so evil to me–cloudy days that offer no hope, rain that never gives any light or warmth, no life or beauty to be found, all of the loneliness and disappointment, the anguish, the desperate pleas for help, and the trudging through of the feet–all of these must be so that HOPE can come.

So that LIFE can push really hard, can push hard and long against the surface, so hard until it seems I will give way, and when I think that my weary heart and soul can take no more, there it is! Life to be felt, touched, all warmth and sun and the SON comes in strong, like a team of wild stallions beating back ocean waves, and He calms me with His steady hand, touches me, ME who doesn’t deserve anything, feeling like a silly child for asking, for reaching out, and He gently cradles me like summer sun, blinding the eyes and letting lids drift off asleep.

And then I see, I see the brown leaves, {so happy to be picking up those brown leaves, everyone pitching in, the warm sun our helper}, and I know what they have covered up this whole time–it has been life growing underneath.

In the front yard, where he is raking strong and ferocious, we meander and follow him, walking and looking, taking in beauty, holding hands, snapping our happy day in freeze-frames.

 Then it happens: I hear him say, “No, Bella, you know Mama doesn’t want you to do that”. It is always Mama that doesn’t want the children to run and frollick and make mischief, always Mama that has a hard time with letting go. And in an instant I see that Bella has plucked all my lovely daffodils from the front garden, the only sign of life in this deadness, the only beauty that I loved, and before I think, I say sternly, “NO, Bella!” and now her tiny shoulders droop, her joyous flower-possessing countenance falls, and straightaway, she is a mess, and so am I.

 I go to her, drawn like the pull of heartache, and kneel down beside her. I say, “It is okay, Bella. You can have Mama’s flowers”. And these words are hard for me to say, and they are pulled out like weeds stuck in the hard winter ground. I hurt, I am torn, and my anger dissolving, I know that I must let go. I know that this is good for me and for her. I hug her and keep saying it over and over, and of course, in Bella’s usual style, she has to punish me just a bit. She can’t move past it right away, and oh, she is MY child; she definitely came from my womb, this child that has it hard letting go.
And suddenly I realize that it is not I that is supposed to be teaching her in this moment, but it is she that is teaching me, and she is teaching me well.
 I am a broken Mama, throwing myself against the stubborness of this child, and breaking over and over and over. God knows that this is what this sinful, hard heart of mine needs. 

WHY is my first reaction to sternly correct and break littles’ spirits? Couldn’t I, being fully aware of her possessing my prize, just have let my laugh carry on the wind, reach her with a warm enveloping smile and let her know that I will always, always give her what is mine?

I will never, ever forbid her to come close and I will always, only embrace her fully, mistakes and all.

Isn’t this what the Father has done for me? Yes, He gave it all.

I want to shed this cloak of doubt and fear and despondency and turn face full to the sun, grab my child’s hand and show her that things here don’t matter.

I want to run over and wildly pluck a flower, tuck it behind her ear and whisper it on the gentle spring breeze, “You are free to love, child, free as your Father in Heaven has loved you and made you free.”

I imagine she turns to me, smiles, her eyes alight, and she looks up at me like maybe I’m God and it just makes me want to always, only walk towards that narrow gate.

I take her hand and lead her there.



#22 green life pushing up under all that deadness
#23 knowing that this is God’s plan for me too
#24 joy in the realization that spring always comes, even in the winter of my heart
#25 bright sun warming my weary soul
#26 children so cute, sunhats on
#27 family helping as a unit and it can always be this way if we learn
#28 Bella’s small hands and his large gloved hand
#29 two curious heads, pawing and digging at the ground in hopes of finding some roly poly or other sort of lone stragler.
#30 Ivy’s cheery face as she picks up leaves and how she smiles as soon as she sees me watching
#31 Even little Bella helping, and how she heaves strong the sticks that are bigger than her
#32 Lorna convincing him to let her ride, so easily made happy 
#33 that God gave me sweet faces to take pictures of
#34 all of this glorious sunshine
#35 Bella’s sweet little hand in mine and the silky-soft feel of it 
#36 her blinded by the sun and cannot open her eyes, even for a picture
#37feeling the strength in my arms as i work, thankful for the arms to do it with
#38 the beauty and smell of freshly raked grass, moss, and acorns

#39 brown leaves, just the brown leaves, all in a heap

#40 that he came and took over for me when i was getting tired and irritable–such comfort in that
#41 Bella picking my flowers and teaching me more love-lessons
#42 beautiful daffodils and chubby fingers
#43 a safe place out of the blinding sun and potting her stolen daffodils just like Mama does it
#44 child-like wonder at tiny round pebbles
#45 knowing that for all of my kicking, pounding on chest, and yelling, that i can only find rest when i just let it all go  and lay in HIS arms

To jump into letting go, and connect with other women who are doing the same, slip over to Ann’s site with this button –or just click on this link: http://www.aholyexperience.com/2011/03/why-do-lent-why-a-failing-lent-actually-succeeds-a-booklist/

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12 thoughts on “Letting Go Gracefully {and sometimes not so gracefully}”

  1. i can't tell you how reading this makes me feel… i feel wonder and excitement for all that God is doing in you, for giving you the gift of writing to dig deep into it and see His hand draw out the richness of His grace that is transforming you. i have deep joy in your thoughts being captured here, like the moments captured on your camera… i am so thankful for how God blesses my life through you. Keep writing and recording His wonderful working in you.

  2. oops! forgot to say that i forgot to add the “letting go” link to this post, which i was just about to do. so maybe later you can take a peek when i fix it. i know how much you love Ann's site.

  3. indulge you!!! you crazy!!! i wouldn't dream of writing something to you just for the sake of indulging you!:) you are a bosom friend 🙂 when you share your thoughts, i think on them and feel them deeply, we know too much about each other, remember??? that's why we're stuck with each other, and you're stuck having to hear all my thoughts about your thoughts!!!;D

  4. hahaha! thanks for the laugh–needed it much, really, thank you. you know the days when you're too weak to laugh? –those are the days you need it the most. we ARE stuck with each other, you are right, dear friend;D i thank God for that. he gave me what i always wanted. and i suppose it doesnt matter one way or another whether i keep commenting on my own post, since it's not like i have that many followers to be mad with me for taking up all of their space–hee hee;D love you! saying to myself now–must do schoolwork:)

  5. Just read your last comment, always glad to make you laugh!:) I'm thankful we're stuck with each other too.:) and that you don't care about commenting on your own posts 🙂 I'll e-mail soon, want to catch up and see how you're doing!

  6. Nacole, I am speechless a little. You made me cry like a big baby. I pray that you can explore this gift God has given you, and what I mean is that of a wife and a mother, and all the joys and sorrows that come with it. This world can wrap us up in its worries and cares and soon we forget our Divine purpose. Can you let go of the having of things and the worries to enjoy your life and who God has created you to be? Can you drive a barely drivable van and live in an “unlivable” house? I feel like God is trying to show you and I, and so many people, what is really important. This is how we separate our lives from the world. When the world is fulfilled with things and statuses, we are satisfied by the kiss of the sun and knowing that we are pleasing our Father in Heaven.

    You have an incredible gift for writing and I hope you explore that as well. I am not a mother or a wife but I gained so much from this today! Thankyou!

    Sumer

  7. wow! now i am speechless, a little;) thank you so much, Sumer! i needed, really really needed to hear that today! yes, i can let go. God obviously wants me to, and wow, what a loving, gently guiding, good and sheparding Father He is!!!! thank you for reminding me of this!!! i feel that all is falling apart, yet He is HOLDING ME IN HIS HANDS AND WILL NEVER LET GO.

  8. Thank you, Nacole for this, expressing your heart in words and pictures. It has ministered to me.Esp, what you wrote as #22 and #23. in my life my prayer has always been to know god more. Little did I know that being a mother would teach me more about this than I could imagine. i am broken. He's my Healer. I am weak. He is my strength. He is my laughter and my tears.

    Thank you so much.

  9. so true, so true, Michelle. i am broken too; i am a mess. this is a good place for me to be. may i always be here as long as He gets the glory. your comment made me tear up a little– thank you. didnt know i could have this effect on anyone:) but glad that God can use this messy-heart to touch others.

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